


Turn the Page

by LaLunaWritesStuff



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Feels, M/M, hope you're in for a feel-ed trip, reunited, so many feels, that was a bad pun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-14 01:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2172213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLunaWritesStuff/pseuds/LaLunaWritesStuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky has found a new way to cope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn the Page

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! :D  
> This is an experiment. I've been a bit reluctant to even leave the Spideypool-Fandom, so this is a trial run. And I didn't just venture out of my comfort zone, but explore a bit with some heavier topics, so ... here you go. 
> 
> Have fun? Well, I mean ... don't be mad, you know ^^"
> 
>  
> 
> Update (May 2016):  
> Just saw Civil War ... so did I call it or did I call it that Bucky would have a little notebook with important stuff ;) It's my mutant power.

The key klicked in the door and the hinges creaked faintly when Steve stepped into the apartment. On one arm, he balanced two bags full of groceries, tucked under the other was a small stack of magazines and newspapers. 

He placed everything on the kitchen counter along with his keys and phone. 

The soldier had been incredibly happy to finally having found his best friend, even if at first there was barely anything of Bucky Barnes left in the Winter Soldier. When days turned to weeks, turned to months, however, there were glimpses of Buckys old self peeking through. It was a slow recovery process, and sometimes Steve would see Bucky’s eyes go distant, turn into the hard, lifeless eyes of the Winter Soldier again for long moments, but he always snapped back out of it.  
That was when the other Avengers, now all living on the upper floors of Avengers Tower, elected to have some professionals evaluate the situation.  
Steve had been furious. 

From all the things he’d learned throughout his search for the Winter Soldier, he didn’t want anyone to ever lay a hand on his ... friend again.  
Still, after some back and forth, specially trained SHIELD therapists looked into the case, and surprisingly suggested for Bucky to have his own floor at Avengers Tower.

 

It was when they slowly started to introduce him to simple tasks of the daily life that Bucky started to write into a little notebook Natasha had given him as a present one day. 

 

So now Steve was standing in his friend’s new home, ready to show him more new things in the magazines, just like every week. 

But he found the living room area of the large, open plan apartment empty, except for numerous sheets of paper strewn on every available surface. Furrowing his brows, Steve stepped forward to pick one up from the floor closest to him.  
“Bucky?” he called out, not wanting to seem sneaking around.  
He got no verbal answer, but a faint knock of plastic against wood, coming from the bedroom. 

As Steve followed the noise, he picked up more papers, astonished by the sheer amount. And it was all handwritten notes. Sometimes the whole page was filled with neatly written letters in russian or english, sometimes it looked incredibly messy and scribbly.  
Some were minimalistic pictures drawn with an unsteady hand, and on some pages there was just one or two words. 

Ignoring the colossal mess in the living room – it had to be at least three notepads having been distributed over the area – Steve wandered into the bedroom through the open door. 

Surely there he was, in a too-wide shirt which hid the outline of his metal arm against the flesh of his chest, Bucky sat on the floor in front of his bed, heaps of pages building a ring around him, notepad in hand.  
The one that Natasha gave him sat reverently on the nightstand, but all around – even on the bed – were more papers.  
They were everywhere.  
Steve looked around, saw even more pages peeking through from the shadows under the bed. One drawer of the nighstand was slightly ajar, so he assumed it was full of paper, as well. 

The plastic against wood that he’d heard earlier had to have been Bucky tapping the bedframe with his ballpoint pen. 

He looked up at Steve now, eyes big with something that resembled fear as well as desperation. 

“I just ... I can’t ... mustn’t ... forget again,” Bucky said and picked up some pages from the floor, crumpling them in his metal hand but apparently not caring that much, since his eyes never left Steve.  
“I can’t forget again,” he repeated, voice astonishingly stern for his pleading look. 

“Of course not,” Steve answered mechanically, and took in the mess that was the bedroom once more.

He surpressed a pained sigh and knelt down.  
“I’ll pick those up for you. Can’t have them lie around here, huh?” he asked softly, pausing knowingly to give Bucky time to think or object.

“Yeah,” the brunet agreed and finally placed the notebook and pen aside to help pick up the countless pages.


End file.
